


thence we came forth

by parkitcharlie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:36:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkitcharlie/pseuds/parkitcharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke doesn't really know where she's going. She's just going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	thence we came forth

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by clrkegriffns post which made me feel things and here we are.

Clarke doesn’t know how long it has been since she left Bellamy with the others. It feels like it could have been yesterday. Just twenty-four short hours since she made the choice to end the lives of hundreds; since she shot Dante in the chest. If she closes her eyes she can see the people on level five burned into her retinas like an afterimage. She can see Jasper cradling Maya in his arms. It feels like it could have been yesterday that she made the choice to put her people first, _No,_ she thinks, she made the choice long before that.

Besides, it wasn’t yesterday and Clarke knows that much.

She didn’t have a plan really, which is new. Clarke Griffin _always_ has a plan. Clarke was the girl with charts and systems and codes. Clarke was the girl whose ideas won wars. Things had changed though, Clarke had changed. She wasn’t a girl anymore and she definitely did not have a plan.

She stops for a moment, leans against the trunk of a tree, and considers making one. Below she can see water trickling along with the slope of the hill. If she had made a plan, she would have stopped by the drop ship or maybe headed toward the grounder camp to scavenge for supplies. She wouldn’t have flung her gun into the first lake she saw. It would have been nice to have eaten something other than nuts and berries but, she can’t change the past now can she?

_What you did will haunt you till the end of your days_

Clarke laughs. Lexa nailed that lesson.

Lexa was right about a lot of things and Clarke decides to list them as she moves on because, why not? She has time.

_Victory stands on the back of sacrifice_

_I did what you would have done_

_To lead well you must make hard choices_

_You were born for this Clarke. Same as me_

_The only thing that will make you feel better is winning this war_

Clarke stops. Lexa was wrong about that one. She is feeling a lot of things but none of them are _better._ She sighs. _No more lessons_. It’s getting dark again and she needs to find shelter. Clarke is about to move forward when she hears a rustling behind her. Instinctively, she reaches for her gun only to remember it’s not there. She swears softly and bends to grab the small knife from her boot. The noise grows louder, a voice in her head reminds her, _Death is not the end,_ and she steels herself (vaguely Clarke wonders when Lexa became that voice).

A doe bursts out of the brush and Clarke barely has time to get out of the way before it passes her. Another noise attracts her attention and she turns in time to see a buck exploding from the same place the doe did. Without much thought, Clarke brings the knife down on the deer as it rushes past. The buck makes a noise and stumbles so Clarke withdraws the knife and stabs it again and again and again until she is sure it’s dead. Slowly Clarke stands and looks down at the bleeding deer. She kicks the head and the deer stares up at her with two pair of glassy eyes. Clarke swallows the lump that appears in her throat. _Coincidence_ , she tells herself as she grabs hold of the antlers and drags the carcass back toward the stream.

When she reaches the water she drops to her knees to wash off the blood of the buck. It covers her and the metallic smell is suddenly overwhelming. She scrubs her hands, furiously, trying to rid herself of the sticky feeling but it doesn’t help. Clarke stops, the red-tinted water settles and her reflection appears. The blood on her face reminds her of when she was escaping Mount Weather with Anya. Her people mistook her for a grounder then. Now, here she is covered with blood and wearing clothes gifted to her by the Commander of the grounders herself.

“We’re not so different, are we?” She asks her reflection. Water drips from her hands and sends ripples through the image. Her reflection doesn’t offer a response and Clarke is mildly surprised to have found herself expecting one.

Flies have found the deer and she brushes them away absently as she decides what to do with the kill. She cuts herself a good sized chunk and then goes about making a fire. It’s almost mechanical at this point and she thinks about how hard it used to be. The way she practically begged the wood to light. She remembers Finn crouched over trying to get the kindling to catch; the way Octavia rolled her eyes when Jasper said “Wait, let me!”

Clarke shakes her head to get rid of the memory. Things have changed. The fire burns at her feet and she skewers the meat for cooking. Occasionally, as she sits, grease drips down into the fire and the flames leap up to catch them, bright and yellow.

Clarke falls asleep at some point after eating, staring at the coals glowing in the dark.

She dreams she is on the Ark.

They’re arresting her, dragging her off, roughly like she’s some criminal (which she supposes she is). Wells is staring at her and he’s trying to say something but his mouth is sewn shut. He’s gesturing wildly and Clarke can’t tell if he wants them to stop or not. They throw her into her cell and the door slams shut with a noise that sounds like a rocket’s ignition. Clarke scrambles to cover her ears but the room is shaking and her drawings are coming to life around her. The charcoal trees are stretching and growing and one bursts through the ceiling into space. The change in pressure ejects her out of the room, off the Ark.

She’s on Earth running from the reapers. The trees are getting closer together and the branches feel like bony fingers trying to drag her backwards. One of the reapers grabs her arm so she takes hold of one of the branches and it becomes a knife that she drives through his heart. The reaper looks down at the wound which is now gushing blood and Clarke can feel the hot, red liquid covering her, suffocating her. The reaper looks up, his gnarled face has been replaced by Finn’s. Clarke tries in vain to stop the bleeding. Every time she touches him it gets worse, but she can’t stop trying.

Red welts spread like a virus across his skin and suddenly he’s not Finn at all—He’s Maya and she’s yelling at Clarke asking “Why didn’t you wait? Jasper was going to kill Cage. Why didn’t you wait?” The trees are gone and she’s in Mount Weather. Around her, the dead rise slowly. A group of preschoolers begin to dance around her and they ask her Why like a schoolyard taunt. She sees the people who helped them collapse to the ground, coughing up blood. Dante is with them and then he stands next to Cage, blood still blossoming from his chest and trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, Clarke” He says, then he picks up a gun and pulls the trigger.

Clarke awakes with a start and gives herself a few minutes to figure out what’s happening. _You’re alive Clarke._

“You’re safe.” And Clarke is thinking the voice in her head is sounding more and more like Lexa’s when…

“Lexa.” She’s there, resting with her back against the trunk of a tree, watching. Clarke blinks, trying to decide if this is another part of the dream. Still unsure, she sits up and notices the blanket draped over her.

“A guard thought he saw you out in the woods.” Lexa drops her gaze. “Alone.”

Clarke only nods and so Lexa doesn’t say anything more.

Around them the forest echoes with the sounds of night but here where they sit it is simply quiet. Clarke looks at Lexa and she thinks, _You were right_ , and she thinks, _I tried,_ and Lexa looks back at Clarke and she thinks, _I know._

Together, they both look up at a sky full of stars.

**Author's Note:**

> The Guide and I into that hidden road  
> Now entered, to return to the bright world;  
> And without care of having any rest  
> We mounted up, he first and I the second,  
> Till I beheld through a round aperture  
> Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;  
> Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.  
> -"Inferno"


End file.
